


The Defender

by In_The_Wings_Of_My_Angel



Category: Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_The_Wings_Of_My_Angel/pseuds/In_The_Wings_Of_My_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baz defends Simon and it backfires but then it takes a turn for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Defender

Simon was waiting for him when Baz entered their dorm room.  
Baz seriously didn’t want to deal with the perfect golden boy today, but the look on Simon’s face told him that these wishes would not be fulfilled.  
“What was that all about?” said Simon in a cool but dangerous tone.  
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Snow,” replied Baz nonchalantly. Of course this was completely false as Baz knew exactly what Simon was referring to.  
Simon was trying to coerce Baz into explaining why he had, so inexplicably, defended Simon from a terribly rude student. The incident itself was seemingly harmless, but for some reason it had struck a chord in Simon. As the boy ranted and raved about what a disgrace Simon Snow was to the wonderful world of mages there had been no change in Simon's expression, he had heard this speech before. Other enemies, other people, other friends. There were very few who thought Simon incapable of handling the notorious humdrum but those who did were quite vocal about it. When the boy, at that point very red in the face, noticed that Simon was not responding to his insults he changed tactics: he started to call out against Simon's family.  
The important thing to note is that Simon Snow did not have any family. Raised in an orphanage since before he could remember, Simon was without knowledge as to his mother or his father. He was alone. Simon himself was a powerful person and full of magical abilities. The blond hero was built on a sturdy frame with exceptional strength which he had used over and over to defend the magical world from the Humdrum who wished to rid the world of any other form of magic besides his own. Though clumsy and not entirely devoted to his magical studies everyone knew Simon to be a strong magician on top of his own physical strength. Simon’s ability to blend impulse magic and brute strength became a serious advantage when dealing with evil nasties. Anybody could see that Simons biological parents had been anything but paupers.  
This boy, however, found it in himself to start naming the countless (false) occupations and titles that Simon’s parents had taken up. In those he included quite a colorful array of vile names and disturbing images.  
Now you could say anything about Simon Oliver Snow; he is foolish and impulsive. But never would anyone say that Snow was without loyalty. There was never a time where Simon neglected a friend in need or turned traitor to a trusted ally. The fact that Snow didn’t know his parents did not change his dedication to their memory. Therefore, Simon went absolutely rigid in his seat and a flush crawled its way up his neck. Baz could see the rage creeping into the line of Simon’s mouth and the way his eyebrows began to knit together. Underneath the anger and forced calm Baz could see, as no one else could, the hurt that touched the precious blue eyes of his so called arch-nemesis. The insults had gone one step too far.  
So Baz had stepped in front of Simon, who was still seated on his lab stool, and had looked the pathetic boy in his ugly brown eyes.  
Always hiding his compliments in disguise, Baz had let out his defense in his steady drawl, “As weak and helpless as Snow may appear to us all there is no way that his parents were anything compared to the atrocities you call ‘Mother’ and ‘Father,’” he shot in the face of the boy whom Baz’s family had some ties to, “The way that your parents cower underneath the wings of bigger, better, richer ‘friends,’” Baz air-quoted this word, “and sit snivelling with their limp wills and screwed up morals. It’s disgusting. Somehow I don’t see Hero Snow being a descendant of anything as terrible as your parents. And I don’t know how they can get any worse,” finished Baz with his lip curled in disgust at the shocked boy who now stood silent across from him. Whipping around, Baz promptly dismissed himself from the last five minutes of the Chemistry class. He picked up his books from beside a stunned Simon, said nothing, and exited the room with as much dignity as he could muster while his cheeks warmed with a gentle flush.  
In the present, Simon had obviously gotten over his shock and was looking for an explanation. But how could Baz explain everything to Simon?  
“Don’t give me that!” Simon shouted, obviously too overwhelmed to keep up the facade of collectivity. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, and I want to know why you defended me like you did earlier. I can’t believe you would do that. Do you honestly think that I can’t stand up for myself? Did you have to step in front of me like you did?”  
Baz was becoming increasingly confused. Hadn’t he been doing something nice for Simon? Why was the blond so upset?  
“I knew you hated me ,Baz, but did you really have to make a fool out of me in front of all of our classmates?” Simon shrieked.  
That was too much for Baz. In no way was he going to stand here and let his good actions be slimed upon by his overly-proud roommate.  
Right as Simon opened his mouth to continue ranting Baz let loose yet another string of defense, only this time he was defending himself.  
“First of, Snow, you bloody idiot. I don’t believe that anyone in that classroom was focused on your humiliation when I had just shamed the bloody arse off of that boy! I was defending you, you fool. I actually cared that he was hurting you and slandering your family. I was actually trying to be helpful and I actually wanted to stop him. Believe me when I say that this was not some twisted mission of mine to embarrass you!” Baz’s voice had been steadily increasing throughout his whole tirade but with his next words he lowered his voice considerably.  
“And secondly, I don’t hate you. I never have,” finished Baz pathetically ducking his head to look at his feet. The truth was all too much for him. Though he knew that he and Simon had tormented each other through seven years of schooling, and had pushed each other to the edge of insanity more times than once while being roommates, Baz knew that he simply didn’t hate this brutally passionate boy. Had it not been expected of him to be some sort of silly rival then Baz would have befriended the blond boy years ago.  
When Baz raised his eyes he saw, for the second time that day, the open-mouthed shock that sprawled its way across Simon’s face. The blonde stared at him for a few moments as Baz cringed inwardly, mentally berating himself for such a speech. Snow was a creature of habit and nearly a decade of habits could not be broken by a simple act of defense and passion infused speech.  
With his mind still pounding the heart for its stupidity, Baz quietly re-shouldered his messenger bag, which had fallen to the floor, and began to turn and exit the room. He would find somewhere else to spend the rest of the evening. He was stopped, however, by a gentle hand on his arm and it was his turn to be startled.  
“I didn’t know,” whispered Simon tentatively, “I honestly thought you detested me. I guess I just assumed that you were trying to get under my skin. You’re pretty good at that you know,” a hint of a smile flitting its way across Simon’s lips.  
Baz turned back to look at his roommate fully and found himself looking at a whole new version of the boy, almost man, whom Baz had tried to understand all these years. This was not the defensive arch-rival that Baz saw most of the time nor was he Simon the innocent youth that slept calmly through the night unaware of the grey eyes that traveled his form for countless hours. Those were distant emotions and distant faces which made up Baz’s memories; there was no distance now. Baz could see now the reason that so many people devoted themselves to the hero in front of him. It wasn't because he was smart, though he is, nor because he is strong, but because in Simon’s eyes there was warmth and friendliness and confidence that drew people to him like bees to honey. Distance had dulled the brilliance of Simon's soul from Baz, but the revelation that maybe there was compassion between the two had seemed to clear that film from letting out the sun.  
This blindingly bright person that stood in front of Baz was much more precious than Baz had ever had the ability to comprehend. Baz had always desired to be a part of Simon's life but never had he needed to be wrapped in that glow that seemed to come exude from Simon’s body in waves.  
Simon's eyes were boring into his and Baz could feel a traitorous flush creeping into his cheeks. Years of wanting to understand Simon, becoming obsessed with the boy, and all the while being held back climaxed in a vicious point that seemed to penetrate Baz’s heart. He could feel warmth leaking from his punctured soul and coating his body in a heated embrace. Baz’s eyes flicked to Simon’s lips before crawling their way back up to dazzling blue eyes that seemed to be following Baz’s grey ones. Baz could only imagine the tempest raging in his irises as too many emotions took over.  
Baz’s once dominant mind, cool and collected, seemed to cower in the rising of his thumping heart; Baz found himself breathing a little more quickly and once again focusing on Simon's perfect red lips. Before his brain could once again take the reins Baz jerked his head forward and slammed his lips onto Simon’s. The startled gasp coming from the other boy’s mouth did nothing to stop Baz’s ministrations. A small sigh escaped Baz as he reveled in the soft feel of Simon’s mouth on his own, but suddenly his mind took over and Baz pulled his head back, ripping his lips from the perfection that was Simon.  
Baz looked down immediately too afraid of seeing the revulsion on Simon’s face. How could he have done something so foolish? It was Simon’s duty to be foolish, not Baz’s. Oh, his life would be unbearable now. Simon would go spurting obscenities in this moment then go and paint a new picture of Tyrannus Basilton Pitch for the entirety of Watford to see. Baz kept his face turned down and waited for the click of the door opening to signal Simon’s departure or the loud string of curses to fly out of Simon’s mouth, but as Baz stood there the sound never came.  
Instead, what did come was a pair of rough, warm hands gently tucking themselves under Baz’s chin forcing him to look into the startled yet surprisingly affectionate face of Simon Oliver Snow. Nowhere did Baz see loathing or horror, only kindness… and desire.  
Simon moved one hand down to Baz’s shirt and twisted the fabric into an effective handhold then yanked Baz forward, forcing their lips to meet again.  
Baz’s stupefaction ended suddenly when he felt Simon’s tongue begin to trace his lower lip. Moaning slightly Baz opened his mouth and allowed Simon in. The feel of Simon’s tongue in his mouth was much more than he could handle by just standing still. Forcing himself out of his stupor Baz began to respond to Simon’s touch and pushed his own tongue forward to meet the other boy’s. Simon inhaled sharply when they met and pulled Baz more tightly to himself, deepening the kiss.  
After a few more desperate moments, Simon drew his head back and looked Baz in the eye once more. An impish grin curled the corners of Simon's mouth, still red from their thorough kissing, and he said “That was definitely a new way of getting under my skin,” and touched Baz’s cheek, rubbing his thumb across the sharp cheekbone there.  
Baz chuckled softly and replied, “Sorry, I honestly don’t know what got into me.”  
“Well whatever got into you obviously got into me as well,” said Simon smartly.  
Baz laughed but nervously studied Simon's face; he found, as before, only blatant desire and affection that had never been directed at him before. It was quite an interesting thing to see such tenderness aimed at Baz.  
Simon spoke again, “Though I can’t say it was I would mind feeling you under my skin again,” his eyes glinted with mischief and Baz couldn’t help the laugh that ripped free of his chest. Then Baz grabbed Simon’s loose tie and dragged that mouth back to his own. Somehow, this kiss was even more perfect than the last. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon and Baz later found themselves curled up on Baz’s bed; having found more pleasure in one another than they ever could have imagined, they were beginning to succumb to much needed rest. It was then, while softly stroking the skin of Simon’s neck and shoulder, that Baz could examine the events of the day.  
Simon had asked ‘what was that all about?’ and Baz had not given an answer. The answer he realized was not found in casual conversation or even heartfelt words. Baz now understood that his answer was revealed only by the purest, most genuine of actions.


End file.
